Shadows of the Past
by Colonel Andarion
Summary: AN OZ squadron must deal with infighting while simultaneously fighting off the Deathscythe. Part 2 of 3 in a trilogy.


Disclaimer and author's note:

I don't own Gundam Wing or any other series from which I take bits and pieces. I do own most of the characters in this arc of stories, however, as well as many of the suits and situations.

Also, this is a second attempt at completing the second part of a trilogy of mine. The first part was finished long ago and can be found here, in my archives. It will provide information on characters and suits that may make this work more understandable.

Also, I would like to dedicate this and the possible conclusion to a close friend of mine. Though I haven't spoken to her in many months, not a day goes by where I don't try to find the words so that I can. Christy, this one's for you.

Without further ado, I present Honorable Soldiers of OZ II: Shadows of the Past

* * *

Carlos Santiago tapped his finger thoughtfully on his desk, trying to decide what to do about a particular nuisance. For three months, someone had been raiding the nearby moon bases and stealing supplies. Granted, it was only one or two small things at a time, but eventually those one or two would add up to one or two hundred. Then there would be a problem. 

Ever since the chaos surrounding Tobias Andarion's resignation and departure, nothing had quite been the same. There was a constant bickering among those above as to who would be his proper heir as leader of the Blackhawks. It seemed no one believed that the chosen replacement, Lt. Colonel Adrian Vick, was a capable man for the job.

Sure, he had instincts for the job. Sure, he got along with all the members of his command and his mechanical ability was extraordinary. He just lacked something.

Carlos smiled. _Bloodlust, _he thought without hesitation. _The man hesitates to take the life of his enemy and it will eventually get him killed. He can't even send a comrade to his death._

_Something Tobias would have no problem doing_.

No one had quite believed that tales that he had ordered the execution of one Rynn Skye for grand treason. Even then it took the combined testimony of several members of the Blackhawks to finally convince OZ High Command that the appropriate action had been taken. Unfortunately, Carlos had been in the middle of everything.

As a result, he had intimate knowledge of the power struggle that had driven his friend into his self-imposed exile. He would have been bothered by it, except he just didn't have time. The problems just kept piling up.

Like the one in front of him now.

He still had no idea where this small group originated, or why they had chosen to target his facilities. He only knew that Command was crawling ever higher up his ass to find a solution. So he had to do something.

Sighing, he reached over and pushed the buzzer on his intercom. After just a moment's hesitation, the other end crackled to life.

"Yes?"

He smiled, pleasantly surprised. It was late, and his secretary was still at work. It seemed she was always working when he left and starting a pot of coffee has he arrived. Irreplaceable, she was.

"Go home, Jade."

This was their usual conversation, usually joked about several hours earlier. This time he was serious. He was afraid she would burn out. He half expected she already had.

A moment's pause and she entered the cramped cubicle he called an office. He exhaled sharply, impressed that even after a full day of work, she still managed to keep her clothing pressed and her hair neat.

"Why?"

"It's late. Besides, I have some personal business I need to take care of, and I'd like to do it knowing I'm the only one left here."

After a moment, she nodded and turned to leave. She stopped, however.

Now exasperated by her work ethic, he growled at her. "Now what?"

"One more pot of coffee before I go?"

Smiling now, he shook his head. Holding his mug up, he responded with an all clear before returning to the mountain of work in front of him.

* * *

Strife eagerly took the crowbar to the top of the crate, prying the lid off so he could examine the goods from his latest raid. Extracting some off the packing material, he grinned behind his mask at the sight of the powerful generator he had managed to steal. 

_Poor fools. I bet they don't even realize what this thing can do._

Slowly, like a mother handling a newborn, he extracted the device and secured it under one arm. Then, after glancing up at the titanic shape in front of him, he scampered up and began work.

Adrian Vick looked up as the door opened and Captain Robyn Goodfellow entered, a clipboard tucked neatly under her arm.

"Morning boss."

He noticed almost immediately the defeated tone in her voice. Also visible were the bags under her eyes.

He furrowed his brow, the sweat on his dark skin gleaming from the overhead lamps. "Another night of little sleep?"

She blinked, surprised. "Is it that obvious?"

He stared at her meaningfully. "What's the problem?"

She collapsed into the chair opposite his, still holding the clipboard. "Three months. Haven't gotten a truly decent night's sleep in three months."

Vick leaned back and thought. "When the Colonel left."

She sighed, hating to admit it. "Permission to speak freely?"

His eyebrow climbed almost imperceptibly. "Go ahead. You have more right then most to speak your mind."

Toying nervously with her locks of brilliant red hair, she began. "He's such a dick."

"Dick?"

"Yes. I just can't get over the fact that someone could so flippantly dismiss years of work because of one bad experience. He seemed so dedicated to this task of hunting down rebels, and he seemed to genuinely care about everyone here."

Vick caught the pause, as if she wanted to say something else. Instead, he motioned her to continue.

"In spite of all of that, I can't help but wonder if he's okay. If I had a way of knowing where he was or even if he could get messages, I would feel so much better."

"Why? I don't see how that would really make a big difference."

"Promise not to laugh?"

He glanced at her, surprised at how young she had just seemed.

"Sure."

Her cheeks turned a just a shade lighter than her hair. "So I can tell him in person."

He glared at her, his friendly demeanor evaporating.

"So why did you really come in here?"

Gulping, she stood up and extended the clipboard. Again blushing, she turned and left.

* * *

That's it for my return into writing. I'll set a tentative release schedule of a chapter every two weeks. Leave a review and tell me what you think. 

Thanks,

Colonel


End file.
